


Come Again, Sweet Love

by orphan_account



Category: Venus im Peltz | Venus in Furs - Leopold von Sacher-Masoch
Genre: AU where Sacher-Masoch did not get the chance to fuck the ending of this novel up entirely, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Instead of remaining, Severin has left Wanda after the letter, and, ashamed and angry, joined the army to find a new life; while she enjoyed her life with her Greek as long as she could. They do not expect to ever meet again, but fate decides otherwise.





	

Seven years have passed since Florence and she never thought she’d see him again - certainly not in one of the magnificent salons of Paris, in a soldier’s uniform, comfortably chatting with other noblemen. And yet, there he is, in the middle of the room, sun-tanned and clad in the red-blue garb of the Legion - almost a complete stranger.

He must feel that someone’s watching him: he looks up, their eyes meet, and to her great surprise, a smile slowly spreads on his face, even as Wanda hastily turns her eyes away. She does not flee though (why should she?) and it’s only a matter of minutes before she hears the clacking of heavy boots, and two men stop before the sofa she’s been reclining on: General Boussier, a good-natured if somewhat dull old soldier, and her late suitor.

\- Madame Dunajew – the general bows ceremonically. - May I introduce to you my young friend, an outstanding soldier and a true hero, Colonel Severin von Kusiemski?

She shines a friendly smile at him, extending her hand, and he takes it, drawing it to his lips.

\- An honour, madame – he says, his French ever so slightly accented. - May I join you?

Trying to hide her surprise at his forthright approach, Wanda simply nods, and the general withdraws with a jovial smile as Severin takes a seat next to her on the couch. She takes a good look at him, measuring him from head to toe, and it gets increasingly hard to conceal her astonishment. The uniform compliments his lean, sinewy figure well, and as if the officer’s epaulettes weren’t enough of a shock, she now sees the knight’s cross of the Legion of Honour on his chest. His face, framed by a close-cropped, utterly unfashionable beard, remains plain and honest, but a small, enigmatic smile lurks in the corner of his mouth, not unlike that of the Greek statues, giving him a calm, confident expression that she’s never seen before.

\- So, Colonel - she claps her hands together. - What news do you bring from the Orient? It’s been quite a while since we’ve last had the pleasure of hearing the dazzling stories of our valiant soldiers.

Severin smiles.

\- I fear, madame, that I shall disappoint you, for I have no such tales, nor the talent for telling them.

\- Nor the talent for conversing with ladies, it seems, Herr von Kusiemski - Wanda laughs, a hint of derision in her voice. - Most men would jump at the opportunity to awe us with accounts of their valour.

\- Most men would - he nods, still smiling.

\- Ah, so you intend to enthrall with your modesty - Wanda teases. - But the French rarely pin medals on people for their remarkable humility, and the good general never praises people so highly unless they are utterly deserving of it.

Severin laughs.

\- I see that I must oblige, madame. My regiment was transferring between forts in the desert - a task dangerous enough in itself with the Arabs stirring again - and we were drawn into a trap and ambushed. I managed to rally some men and hold up our attackers for enough time for the regiment to regroup and retaliate in full force. I did nothing more than what was my duty - he added. - But the command saw it fit to promote and decorate me.

\- Ah, you're not entirely hopeless - Wanda nods approvingly, with a brilliant smile. - From your name, I imagine you’re Galician?

\- And French - Severin replies, and seeing the confusion on her face, taps the medal on his chest, not without some pride. - By the blood spilled.

\- Do tell, then, what drew you from the East to the Legion? Not a sense of adventure, I think - Wanda smirks.

\- A thirst for knowledge, you might say - he replies enigmatically. She tilts her head, eyeing him curiously.

\- A strange place to look for education, Herr von Kusiemski.

\- But a highly efficient one. One learns to tear himself away from lofty ideals and philosophies, and think entirely practically - and realistically.

\- So the barracks turned you from an idealist into a rationalist?

\- A stoic. A sober dreamer, if you will.

Wanda’s laughter rings through the room, drawing the attention of those standing close by to the pair.

\- And now you deal in paradoxes, Colonel. You do intrigue me, however. Are you staying in our fair Paris for long?

\- I am on leave for a little more time - he nods. - Should I take up the general on his offer and transfer to the home army, I might be stationed here permanently.

\- Well, I hope you will find some time to visit me; I am most interested to hear more of this philosophy.

  


* * *

  


Severin waits two days before he’d visit his Venus; he is no rush, or so he tells himself. He rides across the city slowly, taking great time to examine the quarter and the elegant villa in which she now resides, and concluding that her second husband must have left her even richer than the first.

He is lead into her solar to find her lying nonchalantly on a fainting couch, wrapped in a fine green silk robe lined with dark fur, a little book in her hands. Marble-skinned, with her bewitching green eyes and great, flame-like head of hair, she’s the very image of Venus still, and self-confessed stoic or no, he has to restrain himself from throwing himself at her feet there and then.

\- Impudent as ever, I see – Severin calls out, a dangerous spark dancing in his eyes. Wanda, breaking away from her reading, raises her gaze to his face and chuckles.

\- Is that not what you loved, my friend?

\- Quite – he nods. She smiles sweetly, and, putting down the book, extends her hand, inviting him to sit down.

\- The uniform suits you, Severin – she compliments him gently. - Come, now. Let’s talk like old friends should. You really haven’t told me anything about your past years yesterday, you terrible man.

Severin smiles and complies, glancing at the book she’s set aside as he’s sitting down: it’s _Les fleurs du mal_.

\- On the contrary, madame. I’ve told you everything worth knowing. Life at war is not at all as interesting as it’s made out to be.

\- There you go again! - Wanda slaps his arm with feigned annoyance. - You are as frustrating as you used to be.

\- I’ll take that as a compliment – Severin smirks, an unusual expression on the once so serious face. - No, my time on the battlefield has not been particularly noteworthy.

\- You might be the only man who would says that after getting the knight cross of the Legion of Honour out of it – Wanda interjects, laughing, but Severin is, like in the days of the old, unshaken when already set on his path.

\- Far more important was finally realizing the mistake in my design. Thinking in such extremes was ill of me - imagining that one must either dominate or be dominated, what nonsense! A concept more barbaric than antique. As if love should be a war!

\- Are you about to propose a new engagement, my wise friend? - Wanda interrupts with a sardonic smile. Severin looks at her, puzzled for a moment.

\- I wouldn’t dare to presume - he says very seriously, and then his lips curl into a smile. - But I won’t refuse if you offer.

Wanda breaks out in laughter again.

\- Oh, you’re a rogue. So my furs still work their charms on you?

\- You do disservice to yourself, madame - Severin smiles. Wanda raises an eyebrow, her expression one of pleasant surprise, and studies his face quietly for a moment.

\- There will be a ball tomorrow at the Russian embassy. You may accompany me, if you so wish.

A triumphant smile appears on Severin’s face as he bends forward to draw her hand to his mouth.

\- Most fervently - he whispers, and his lips linger for a moment as he pressed them to her hand, and he’s pleased to feel her hand tremble at his touch.

  


* * *

  


They make quite an appearance at the ball, especially Kusiemski, unknown to Parisian society yet entering with one of the most famous and highly desired women on his arm. They look almost opposites: Wanda is dressed, according to the latest fashion, in a magnificient crimson silk gown, diamonds adorning her neck; without question the most beautiful woman at the ball. Severin, on the other hand, is rather plain and almost scruffy by Parisian standards, and as if he wanted to emphasize his otherness, he’s now wearing the customary garments of the nobles from Austria-Hungary - not unlike the hussar uniforms - but in unusual colors: tight-fitting blue dolman and trousers with silver braids, a pelisse of a darker shade of blue slung over his shoulder, trimmed with black fur, and black Hessian boots.

It’s quite apparent how baffling it is for the crème de la crème to see this homely foreigner possessing their beloved lioness, this very Circe; and yet, there is an undeniable sense that they belong together, the harmony is palpable between them. They stay together for the entire night: Wanda rejects every single man who asks her for a dance and Severin has eyes for none but her.

He escorts her home, riding beside her carriage, and upon reaching her villa dismounts swiftly so that he can be the one to help her out of the carriage and accompany her back to the door. Deep down, he hopes to be invited in, but when they reach the doors, she leans forward and places a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, then quickly steps back before he could react.

\- Good night, Severin - she smiles coyly at him, then slips in through the door, leaving him outside stunned, his lips parted, gazing numbly after her before he returns to his senses.

\- Siren - he murmurs to himself, shaking his head with an incredulous smile, walking slowly back to the gate to mount his horse again, but for long minutes Severin stays, gazing at the closed door before he’d ride off into the night.

  


* * *

  


They continue to spend almost all their waking moments together, appearing arm in arm every evening in salons, balls or theaters, and Severin accompanies her home every night, but Wanda does not invite him in, and he does not make advances.

Still, in Paris, appearances are more than enough, and it doesn’t take more than two weeks before one of the haughtier young dandies (incidentally, one whose advances Wanda has rejected before), a viscount of barely twenty years spits out some insults about Eastern mongrels soiling a good French evening in the foyer of the Opéra just loudly enough so that Severin can overhear them. He calmly disentangles his arm from Wanda’s, walks over and throws his glove into the young noble’s face.

\- Send your seconds so that I can tell them where and with what weapon I’ll end your life - he says nonchalantly. The boy almost lounges at him, but to his misfortune, two other officers witness the exchange: a chasseur captain and a cuirassier lieutenant, both of good French blood and neither of them legionnaires, but true to the spirit of comradery, they come immediately to Severin’s side, and the youth holds back and with a hateful face, retreats without another word.

An hour later all is settled, and Severin, resting his head in Wanda’s lap, tells her of the minor details of the coming duel as she’s stroking his hair.

\- Will you kill him? - she inquires with a tone of pure curiosity. He shrugs.

\- I should. Do you wish otherwise?

Wanda ponders on it, furrowing her brows.

\- I’d prefer not to have you embroiled in a scandal, much less a trial for murder - she finally answers. - Teach him a lesson and make sure he remembers it.

Severin sighs.

\- Very well, then - he says, sitting up. - Shall I pay you a visit afterwards?

\- As long as it’s with your shield and not on it - Wanda smiles, and Severin grimaces at her.

\- You wound me, madame.

\- I do hope that you shall withstand his blows better than my jests, then - she laughs, and leans forward, kissing him lightly on the mouth, but springs up from the couch before Severin could react. - See you tomorrow.

  


* * *

  


He enters in bloodied clothes, carrying a bloody rapier in his left hand, crossing the room with long, impatient strides to take a knee before Wanda.

\- I lay the fruits of my triumph at your feet, my lady - he says with a smirk, and a ferocious light shines in her eyes as examines the weapon and the man kneeling in front of her.

\- Are you wounded? - Wanda asks softly, leaning forward and touching a bloody patch on his vest. Severin laughs and shakes his head. - Good - she murmurs, pushing the rapier away with her foot, and reaches out to dig her fingers into his hair, pulling at his locks hard enough to tip his head back, and lowers her head to kiss him, slowly and thoroughly. He returns the kiss with fervour and throwing his arms around her waist, draws her to his chest, but Wanda breaks away from his lips, chuckling.

\- So eager - she teases, her fingers still holding a firm grip on Severin’s hair, keeping him in place. He does not struggle, but his face is flushed, and his eyes burn with a feverish light.

\- Has it not been long enough? - he asks, his voice suddenly hoarse. Wanda does not reply but simply kisses him again, and this time lets herself be drawn to the floor and lost in his embrace.

Afterwards, they lie in each other’s arms on the thick Persian rugs, naked, breathless and blissful, Severin burying his face into Wanda’s hair, and her stroking his chest, tracing the lines of his scars. Wanda’s silk gown, thrown across the room, has been ripped in three places and Severin’s upper arms and back are covered in scratches, some still bleeding, but neither of them could care any less.

\- You know - he murmurs, wrapping his arm tightly around her. - I’ve heard that Italy is beautiful this time of the year.


End file.
